


the magician's assistant in their dreams

by ionlyloveyouironically



Series: your left-hand man [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Aggressive male posturing, M/M, Trans Male Character, Trans!Adam, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9230993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyloveyouironically/pseuds/ionlyloveyouironically
Summary: Ronan has some concerns over Adam's binding techniques.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into writing TRC fic, so of course it has to be about trans!Adam.
> 
> CW: talk of unsafe binding, character using unsafe binding techniques
> 
> Edit: it's recently come to my attention that using KT tape, the alternate method Adam starts doing at the end of this, actually isn't good for you either, so don't do it.

It’s not an issue. It’s never been one. Adam doesn’t know how everything got so mixed up and backwards, but he also doesn’t know what else he could have expected.

He also doesn’t know why Ronan is so pissed at him, but even with their relationship, that’s nothing new.

Or, maybe not _pissed_ , judging by the look on Ronan’s face. It’s an odd mix of aggression, the blankly horrified look he’d had when Adam had told him what he’d needed to dream to get rid of Greenmantle, and something akin to the look on Gansey’s face that Adam had always misread as pity.

“It’s not an issue,” Adam says.

The look is toned down and remixed with a lot more anger. “Not an _issue_? Like hell it’s not an issue, you’re not supposed to bind with ace _fucking bandages_ , Adam-”

He wonders how Ronan knows that. “You’re not supposed to bind with them tight enough to cut off air, that’s not what I’m doing.” He crosses his arms before he can stop himself, a barrier between them and what they’re yelling about right now. “The way I do it is perfectly fine-”

“Oh yeah, you can manage to properly do something that damages everyone else, right?” Ronan cuts in, snidely. “You’re the only one doing it properly.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Adam flushes angrily. This isn’t what he wanted, and getting attacked for something he’s never talked openly about to anyone else is fraying his temper. He bends down and grabs his sweater off the floor, tugging it on viciously.

“You think loads of people haven’t tried to do exactly what you’re trying to do?” And oh, that strikes way too deep of a chord in Adam.

“Is this where you try to lecture me about something I obviously know more about than you?” he seethes. “Just because you have enough money that you’d be able to go out and get top surgery or a proper binder at the drop of a hat doesn’t mean the rest of us are so lucky. You don’t know a single goddamn thing about any of this, so stop acting like you do. And get out of my fucking apartment.”

Ronan looks like he’s about to shout back, try to refute any or all of what Adam said, but he just exhales loudly and yanks his shirt and jacket back on. He slams his way out the door, thunders down the stairs, and moments later roars out of the parking lot.

Adam stays standing in the same spot for minutes after Ronan leaves, calming himself down. This isn’t what he’d wanted.

He and Ronan were having a fine time, Adam attempting homework that he’d put off for Christmas break, Ronan distracting him from doing so by being his usual fidgety self and kissing up his neck. That had turned into something more, and then Adam had thought that by this point he was comfortable enough with Ronan to have a bare chest while making out.

But then he’d taken off his shirt and Ronan had taken one look and gotten pissed. Not about Adam being trans, he’d known about that. Adam had told him that even before things had started between them.

It was on a trip to the Barns, driving back along one of the back roads that were all indistinguishable in their uniformity, and Adam had turned down the music and blurted, “I’m trans, by the way.”

He’d never felt such a dire urge to come out before those past few weeks. He was fine with just passing as a cis guy at Aglionby, but for some reason he wanted his friends to know. Not because he felt like he was lying to them, but because he wanted them to see that part of him and still treat him the same.

He wanted Ronan to know specifically because he wanted to know if he was allowed to keep Ronan’s gaze.

Ronan had just glanced over at him and asked, “Is this a new revelation, or…?”

The back of Adam’s neck grew hot. “If this is you trying to ask what I have in my pants-”

“Jesus, Parrish, _no_.” Ronan rubbed his cheek like he was trying to get rid of the faint blush blooming there. “I was fucking _asking_ because I didn’t know whether you were already in transition, or if you just figured it out and I needed to refer to you by other pronouns, or what the fuck ever, man.”

Adam was, slightly, surprised. He didn’t think Ronan would hate him, but he also hadn’t thought Ronan would have preexisting knowledge about trans people. “It’s not new,” Adam answered finally.

It was only when Ronan relaxed that Adam realized he had been tense at all. He wondered if this made him uncomfortable. “Okay, then,” Ronan said. “So this doesn’t change anything. Because no offense, dude, but we kind of have a lot of shit on our plates right now.”

And that was that. Any other conversation that needed to happen had been taken care of on the night of Ronan’s birthday. But now this had happened and Adam didn’t know whether Ronan really only was upset about the binding or whether it was the fact he needed to bind at all.

He sat back down at his desk and tried again to do his homework, feeling wretched.

It really wasn’t an issue. He’d used sports bras at first, but they didn’t achieve what he’d wanted, and seeing the straps on his shoulders made him uncomfortable. Bandages were easy to get and he wasn’t questioned by his parents for keeping a stock of them in his room. He knew the risks; he’d spent what stolen moments he could get at the library’s computer back when he went to public school searching for ways to bind that didn’t include dishing out a lot of money for a binder. He hadn’t been able to find any good solutions except for the bandages. So he’d ignored the warnings and bound his chest like that since he was fifteen.

It was perfectly fine if he did it only as tight as he needed it. Sometimes he got short of breath, okay, but then he just ducked into the bathroom and loosened them up a little. If there’s a slight depression at the top of his ribcage, _it’s fine_.

There’s not an issue.

///

It’s later the next night, when there’s an uncharacteristically restrained knocking at Adam’s door. He’d just got back from work, showered, and sat down on his bed to give his feet a rest and he groans inwardly at the thought of having to get back up again. But he figures he knows who it is, so he just calls out for him to come in.

He hasn’t seen hide nor hair of Ronan all day, which feels slightly conspicuous considering that they had a fight about serious things and considering exactly what those serious things were. But now Ronan ducks inside and shuts the door his usual obnoxious way. He collapses onto the bed next to Adam, and, without looking, thrusts a plastic shopping bag in his face.

Adam takes it and opens his mouth to ask what’s inside, but Ronan just scoffs and takes the bag back, untying the knot he’d made with the handles, and practically throws it back at Adam. “Just fucking look.”

There are two small boxes and a folded piece of paper inside; Adam pulls out one of the boxes and inspects it before asking blankly, “Nipple pasties?” He looks back down at the box. “What do you have nipple pasties for?”

“Look at the other shit,” Ronan grits out through clenched teeth.

Adam roots around for the other box and piece of paper and takes them out as Ronan starts chewing on his lip. His hands are clasped tightly in his lap, and he’s not looking anywhere but dead ahead in front of him.

The second box is a pack of KT tape for athletes, and Adam really doesn’t know where this is going, so he looks at the piece of paper. Unfolded, it holds a diagram apparently printed from the internet. Then Adam does a double-take and realizes that in the diagram is a figure with breasts, and the following diagrams show the breasts being bound with what appears to be… KT tape. Adam looks up at Ronan just as he starts talking.

“It’s, yeah, I know it’s not my fucking business or what the hell ever, but you _are_ my business and I don’t give a damn how careful you think you’re being because binding with bandages is unsafe, period. It just is, doesn’t matter how tight you think you don’t have it. So I looked shit up, and KT tape is apparently a good alternative except the adhesive might irritate your skin but… It’s probably better than however you’re breaking your ribs now, so.”

“I’m not breaking my ribs, Ronan.”

Ronan scoffs and judges Adam’s tone safe enough to finally look at him. “Wearing that shit ends up changing the shape of your ribcage. Notice any new _dips_ recently?” Adam breaks eye contact, and Ronan huffs a humorless breath out. “Right. Well, these are both five bucks at Target, which adds up, but it’s better than a hospital bill I’m assuming.” He pauses, then continues. “You know gc2b binders are only thirty dollars apiece.”

“Ronan-”

“Blah blah blah, that’s a lot of money, whatever. It’s something you actually need, and everyone says they last for a long time, so it’s not, like, frivolous or whatever.” He puts his wrist to his mouth and says through teeth clenched around a bracelet, “Or I could always dream you one.” Which Adam suspects was what he was trying to get at all along.

“I can’t ask that of you. I know how the dreaming has been for you.” Ronan turns his head away, and there’s tension in the lines of his neck either from Adam’s refusal or the reminder that he’s still having trouble with the magic intrinsic to his being. “Hey, Ronan.” Adam grabs the hand not by Ronan’s mouth. “Thank you.”

The sincerity in his voice drags Ronan back facing him, and Ronan studies his face before shrugging nonchalantly. “Can’t have my boyfriend have an oddly-shaped body.”

Adam smirks at his posturing. “Oh no, gotta maintain your standards, huh?”

“Definitely.” His gaze turns serious. “Honestly. I want you to be comfortable in a way that doesn’t cause damage.”

“Honestly?”

“T b h, honestly, to be honest.” Adam laughs, and Ronan’s face loses what’s left of its worried tension.

Adam takes the hand that he’s holding and presses it to his lips, an apology that Ronan accepts and mirrors when he places his hand on the side of Adams neck and kisses him.

They kiss for long enough that the stuff Ronan brought gets shoved to the floor and Adam stretches out on top of Ronan. As he kisses down his neck, Ronan says, a little breathlessly, “We were headed somewhere yesterday, think we could get back to that?”

Adam laughs lowly against Ronan’s throat and pulls back. “Actually, I’ve had a long day. I’m not thinking about anything but sleep right now.”

Ronan curses poetically, but scoots over to the side so Adam can lay next to him. Adam falls asleep some time later with Ronan’s arm wrapped around him and lips sore from kissing.

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at endings.
> 
> There's never a "proper time" or a point in your relationship where you have to be comfortable enough to be bare chested with the other person/people. Take things at your own pace, and if that never happens, it's fine.
> 
> Follow me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/1980salienboi) and [tumblr](http://1980salienboi.tumblr.com/)


End file.
